at within' five
minutes after I'd rolled into my humble little white iron cot out on the
sleepin' porch I was dead to the world. Could I have done that if I'd
had on my mind a fiendish plot against the peace and safety of the only
real aunt we have in the fam'ly? I ask you.

Seemed like I'd been asleep for hours and hours, and I believe I was
dreamin' that I was being serenaded by a drum corps and that the bass
drummer was mistakin' me for the drum and thumpin' me on the ribs, when
I woke up and found Vee proddin' me from the next cot.

"Torchy!" she's sayin'. "Is that rain?"

"Eh?" says I. "No, that's the drum corps."

"What?" says she. "Don't be silly. It sounds like rain."

"Rain nothing," says I, rubbin' my eyes open. "Why, the moon's shining
and--but, it does sound like water drippin'."

"Drippin!" says Vee. "It's just pouring down somewhere. But where,
Torchy?"

"Give it up," says I. "That is, unless it could be that blessed
tank----"

"That's it!" says Vee. "The tank! But--but just where is it?"

"Why," says I, "it's in the attic over--over--Oh, goodnight!" I groans.

"Well?" demands Vee. "Over what?"

"Over the south bedroom," says I. "Quick! Rescue expedition No. 2.
Auntie again!"

It was Auntie. Although she was clear at the other end of the house from
us we heard her moanin' and takin' on even before we got the hall door
open. And, of course, we made another mad dash. Once more I pushes the
switch button and reveals Auntie in a new plight. Some situation, I'll
say, too. Uh-huh!

You see, there's an unfinished space over the kitchen well and the
plumber had located this hundred-gallon tank in the middle of it. As it
so happens the tank is right over the bed. Well, naturally when the fool
automatic shut-off fails to work and the overflow pipe is taxed beyond
its capacity, the surplus water has to go somewhere. It leaks through
the floorin', trickles down between the laths and through the plaster,
and some of it finds its way along the beams and under the eaves until
it splashes down on the roof of the pantry extension. That's what we'd
heard. But the rest had poured straight down on Auntie.

Being in a strange room and so confused to wake up and find herself
treated to a shower bath that she hadn't ordered, Auntie couldn't locate
the light button. All she could remember was that in unpackin' she'd
stood an umbrella near the head of the bed. So with great presence of
mind she's reached out and